Rule's Obsession

by Lynda Chance

  Chapter Five

  As Damian seized her hand in an unyielding grasp, Angie knew she was quietly panicking. She could only describe the look on his face one way. Territorial. He was silently watching her as if he were going to pounce at any moment. He resembled a predator biding its time, and she felt like the prey that was about to be consumed.

  Unable to control her instincts, her eyes broke contact with his and slid down his tightly held body.

  His massive shoulders were emphasized by the casual shirt he wore, the material clinging to muscles gone taut. He didn’t resemble a businessman in that moment, his look was too powerful. His air of self-confidence was almost too much; it was as if nothing could touch him. As if he held some kind of inner knowledge that told him that he’d always come out the winner.

  Angie felt like the spoils in a game that he was about to win. Her heart beat loudly in her ears as she stared at her hand held captive in his. His fingers were long, the ends blunt and callused. They clamped around her hand as if his ownership was a given. Angie sensed that he was ready to spring into action and tighten his grip if she so much as dared to breathe wrong.

  She tried to conquer the involuntary reactions of her body that might give him even more power over her. She needed no handicap right now, and with dedicated effort, pasted a serene look on her features as she attempted to keep her pulse from spinning out of control. To say she found him disturbing was a gross understatement; his gaze was sharp and assessing, yet his eyes were filled with a remoteness that refused to show the savage, inner fire she absolutely knew was beating through his bloodstream.

  He wanted her. That was indisputable.

  There was more than an invitation in the heated depth of his eyes, there was a primitive possession, a merciless, inflexible determination that should have sent her running. But it didn’t. She sat rooted to her chair, enticed by his pagan force, beguiled by his posture of authority that demanded her acquiescence.

  It was powerful shit.

  Her heart pulsed an erratic beat as all through dinner, he watched her with his hawk-like eyes and his intensity never let up.

  They spoke of inconsequential things, and far too soon for her comfort, they’d eaten and he’d paid the bill. He hustled her out to a night gone dark, and before long they were driving down the interstate in a direction that had nothing to do with him taking her home and everything to do with his intentions toward her.

  She knew where they were going.

  His hand held hers over the console, his fingers playing with hers and this thumb pressing against her pulse point, making her blood pump more swiftly.

  Few words were spoken between them, but Angie knew where this was headed. She wanted it; there was no denying that. How could she not?

  He was handsome, rich, and compelling, and she was only human, after all. She experienced a gamut of emotions, all perplexing, but all leading to one thing. She wanted to go to bed with him.

  And nothing would change that.

  He drove to the west side of the city, where property was at a premium, and although the outcome would be the same, she realized that they weren’t driving to his condominium. Before long, he was pulling into a driveway protected by a tall, wrought iron fence. He pressed a single button on the dash, and the gate began to open.

  As he navigated the long drive, Angie finally found her voice. “Where are we?”

  “My house.”

  A sudden tension filled her when she saw the size of the structure before her. “I thought you lived in a condo.”

  He glanced over as he pulled the car around back. “I have a condo for convenience.” His eyes gleamed like black volcanic rock. “I live here.”

  He pulled into one of four bays, and as he escorted her from the garage, the automatic lights lit up the array of other vehicles parked there. Angie made out a top of the line Range Rover, a disreputable truck that looked as if it had seen better days, and a sports car, shiny and low-slung but she had no idea what it was.

  The house itself was nothing less than a mansion. Bigger even than his mother’s home had been, Angie had never been in a house of this size or spectrum before, and she was more intimidated than she cared to admit.

  As he led her inside and she saw the scope of the rooms themselves and the way the entire house was furnished, she realized that he was far, far richer than she had imagined. She should have gotten a clue when she found out he owned the business tower. She swallowed hard as her steps stalled while she looked around. The rooms were picture perfect, putting a modern spin on the traditional. Angie had no idea what she was actually seeing, she’d never been exposed to a world like this before, but she recognized instantly that the walls were filled with art, not just decoration. Across the rooms, there were elegantly pared down pieces of furniture with subtle detailing, interspersed with outrageous Victoria pieces, and yet, they coexisted harmoniously.

  As she hovered in frozen amazement, Damian walked back the few steps to where she stood and with a declaration of intent, swiped her wrist and began dragging her up the ornate, sweeping staircase.

  A shiver of response took her breath away, and she stumbled once before quickly regaining her footing. Her stomach tied in knots from both the reality of his wealth and the heat blossoming between her thighs; she could barely get her brain to function.

  She was on automatic pilot as she followed him up the stairs.

  He strode down a corridor, flung a door open and led her inside what was obviously his bedroom. She saw massive furnishings and a sitting room off to the left, but that was all the time he gave her before dragging her over to the bed. He backed down until he was sitting, and spreading his thighs wide, he pulled her between them with little fanfare. Leaving no question of his purpose, he pulled his shirt over his head and sent it falling to the floor.

  Feeling bereft of control, Angie gasped as she took in his jacked physique. His biceps were like iron, his chest lined with muscles so tightly laced they showed no give. The tendons of his neck were corded and displayed a pulse working heavily as the blood beat through his veins. Her world spun and careened on its axis as he sank one arm around her waist and pulled her head down with the other, until her lips were almost touching his. His eyes were still open and he paused before proceeding. “It’s going to be good.” His eyes reflected a harsh, almost demonic light, but his words were sensuous, as if telling her a secret that he knew to be true.

  She felt a jolt to her system and with her pulse skittering alarmingly, she responded the only way she knew how, which was nothing less than the truth. “I know.”

  His hand locked against her spine, drawing her torso slowly, inexorably toward his. Her breasts landed against the hard planes of his chest, and a shudder that she couldn’t suppress passed through her.

  A tangible, magnetic bond flowed between them as his hand caressed the contours of her back. Her reaction to his touch was swift, almost violent and he watched her steadily, making no attempt to hide the fact. She was very aware of his assessment; she felt her pulse pounding from her fingertips to her toes.

  His hands caressed down and locked onto her hips, his fingers biting into her flesh. She inhaled sharply at the possessive contact. Her fingers ached to run all over him, but she attempted to wait until her pounding pulse subsided somewhat and she could attain a level of control. As shivers of attraction raced through her system, she vaguely realized that his breathing was becoming affected. He pulled oxygen in and out of his lungs in a harsh rhythm, and she could see his chest lifting and falling with the effort.

  His lips fell to the side of her face, and she felt the heady sensation of his kiss slide from her cheekbone to her ear. A delicious sensation arced down her spine and robbed her of any thought capacity she may have had left. Her world became sensory; all she felt was a drugging sensation as he seared a path down her neck to her shoulders.

  Her hands fell to his biceps, and the hard, tactile strength under her fingertips was such a contrast to he
r own body that her knees weakened. She ached for his kiss on her mouth, but the ecstasy wrought by his attention elsewhere wouldn’t allow her to divert him from his direction.

  He brought her more tightly into the circle of his embrace by locking his legs around her, and as if knowing she couldn’t escape, only then released her hips and brought his hands between them. He began releasing the buttons on her shirt, swiftly and with feverish intent. His gaze was a hundred percent focused on what lay beneath the cloth and a noticeable tic began to pulse in his cheek.

  As he pushed open the panels of her blouse and the white curves of her breasts peaked through the lace of her bra, she felt the reflexive jerk of his shoulders under her palms. He breathed deeply, and pushed the shirt off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. His chest rose with his intake of oxygen and his voice came out in a low growl, “I’m trying like fuck to go slow.” His eyes lifted to hers and Angie was hit by such a reflection of tortured impatience that it left her almost bewildered. He pulled in a deep breath and continued, “But I’m about to lose it and it’s going to go fast.”

  His hands gripped her shoulders as he waited for an answer and Angie tried to get her short-circuited brain to function, but all she could do was nod her head.

  At her agreement, his palms sank around her breasts and squeezed, his fingers unsnapping the center clasp of her bra, releasing her flesh from constraint. He began flicking his thumbs across her nipples in a twin assault, and in a last moment of sanity, Angie asked him, “You’ve got protection?”

  His hands momentarily stilled and his eyes lifted and crashed with hers. “Birth control?”

  Angie felt his penetrating stare as if he were trying to get inside her head and see all her secrets. She didn’t know why she cared; maybe it had something to do with his earlier threat of ownership if she slept with him. He’d backed off that right away, but why should she tell him more than he needed to know? A ribbon of doubt at what she was doing sneaked up on her, and she tried to ignore it, but had to give him an answer. She shrugged a shoulder in response.

  His eyes hardened infinitesimally. “I’m clean. You’re clean, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then we don’t need protection. Unless you need it for birth control?”

  Why did she get the feeling that his questions had little to do with any STDs that either of them might have, as opposed to him wanting to know if she was on something? She truly didn’t think he was the type of guy who would push her into having unprotected sex, especially not the first time, and that meant that he wanted to know if she was already protected against pregnancy. And what exactly was the harm in telling him that she wasn’t? All of this ran through her mind in a single thought as tremors of sexual heat continued to burn through her veins. Suddenly, her brain lost focus and she couldn’t remember why she shouldn’t give him the answer he sought. “I’m not on anything.”

  Satisfaction, in its purest form, blazed from his features before his face became hooded. He reached out with one hand and retrieved a condom from the top drawer of the bedside table while holding her locked to him with the other.

  He put it within reach, and with no warning, his lips landed on hers, his fingers clenching around her butt, squeezing her flesh and sending butterflies through her system. His tongue thrust into her mouth, and she felt the vibration of his groan from deep within his chest.

  Damp heat flooded her, and all thoughts but him fled her mind as she concentrated on the amazing way he made her feel. He turned her head and adjusted the angle to the fit he wanted, and Angie fell into his kiss with no thought for the future and with no further consideration that she might be making a huge mistake. She knew that what he made her feel had nothing to do with reason, and in that moment, she didn’t really care.

  She allowed herself what she desperately wanted; she let herself feel. A pulsing knot of fevered attraction settled low in her stomach as a hot ache grew in her limbs. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she threw herself into a kiss that was making her thighs clench in an agony of need.

  His kiss contained a ferocious, hungry passion and she felt a lurch of pure, physical excitement. The first touch of his lips was slow, drugging, but it quickly escalated to a firm and urgent possession. Angie felt the swipe of his tongue and then the bite of his teeth against her lips. With one hand sliding between them and settling around her breast in a grasp so strong it made her shudder, he spoke against her lips, not taking the time to lift away from her. “Fucking. Sexy.” He squeezed her nipple and bit her bottom lip, and a sharp, lancing arrow of sexual need slammed her with its intensity.

  His kiss turned completely fierce, dominant in its aggressiveness, and she became lost under his control. But it was a heady feeling, a perfect feeling as she let him take the lead and was allowed only to feel. Her arms clung tightly around his neck, as the repeated drag of his thumb across her nipple sent arrows of fire shooting down her spine to land in a pool of heated energy between her thighs. She blossomed and felt herself become wet, and she had no control when she began undulating against him.

  The hot lick of passion was explosive between them, and with her heart thundering in her ears, she shuddered as his mouth left hers and his hands slid down and began stripping the clothes from her body with ferocious intent. She let out a small sound of fevered impatience, and misinterpreting the noise, he wrapped a hand around her wrist, halting the escape he thought she might try to make, a growl of warning coming from his throat.

  He’d read her completely wrong; there was no way she was trying to get away from him and his inflexibility only heightened her arousal.

  “Don’t try to get away from me,” he bit out, as he pushed the clothes from her lower body. He immediately lifted her from her feet with a vise-like grip at her hips and twisted around until she was lying anchored to the bed as he leaned over her. He lifted slightly, pushed off his shoes and socks, and then climbed more fully onto the bed. His movements enticed her like an addiction she had no control over, and with a precision that left her breathless, he pushed his iron-hard thigh between hers and held her fast to the bed.

  His hands encircled each of her wrists and lifted them over her head, checking any movement she might have tried to make. A hot, fiery stroke of need made her stomach flip as she looked up into eyes of molten gold.

  Her blood pumped feverishly through her system in waves of delight. With a feeling of aching bliss, she pushed with her wrists against his unrelenting hold as he imprisoned her. Feeling no give at all, a sharp tug of excitement coiled in a river of heat that held her enthralled.

  His eyes narrowed and darkened, even as his hands continued to grasp her with uncompromising strength. His knee pushed against the juncture of her thighs in forceful threat, pinning her lower body to the mattress. “Stop pushing against me,” he hissed. “It won’t get you anywhere.” A blatantly male look of domination crossed his features as he bared his teeth. “Here’s how we’re going to play this. You get one word that will make me pull back.” He studied her with masterful authority, making tremors of heat spread through her bloodstream. “Can you guess what that word is?”

  She quivered in his hold as she tried to comprehend long enough to question, “Stop?”

  He lifted his chin in confirmation. “That’s the word. You say ‘stop,’ and I’ll stop. But that’s the only word that will work, understand me?” She nodded her head in a jerky movement and he continued, “I’m warning you, nothing else will do the trick. I’m already too fucking far gone to figure out what all the pushing against me means.” He clenched his jaw. “You trying to get loose?”

  Her eyes flared in denial as the thought of him letting her go sent shards of regret through her. She began shaking her head. “No.”

  “That’s good, because I’m not letting you go.” He released one wrist and he brought his hand down and fisted his fingers through her hair in a further act of primitive possession. His intense gaze was compelling as he studied he
r. “Remember what you have to do to stop me, babe, because it’s the only out you’ll get.”

  With that warning heating the air between them, he bent his head and kissed her. Angie felt his ravenous hunger in the press of his lips and the stroke of his tongue as it dueled with hers. His sensual aura swept over her, and she expelled shallow pants as irresistible need clenched in her stomach. He kissed her with sure, firm strokes, taking from her mouth and swallowing the air she exhaled as if he couldn’t get close enough.

  She felt the same. With her one free hand, she sank her fingers into the muscles of his shoulder, feeling the hard ridge of flesh under her touch. His skin felt exquisite, his scent inflamed her senses, and the way he was attacking her mouth as if he had no control where she was concerned, was sending sparks of primitive delight dancing along her nerve endings.

  She felt the vibrations of a low growl begin in his throat and bleed up through his mouth and into hers. The raw, feral sound evoked a titillating shiver of response as she felt an all-consuming need to submit to the pure pleasure he induced within her.

  He pulled his mouth away and stared down at her. Trying to take in some much-needed air, she looked back in fascination. Dragging his eyes away, he glanced down and Angie was very aware that the only clothing she wore was her opened bra.

  She lay panting as he released her and reached down with both hands and slid the cups of her bra out of his way. Her nipples immediately beaded, whether from the cool air or his heated gaze, she didn’t know.

  His cheekbones became tinged with red, and with his nostrils flaring, he swiped his thumbs across the pink tips of her breasts. Electricity arced through her and lifted her spine from the bed. At her reflexive movement, his eyes lifted to hers again and held her gaze captive. He raised a hand and with a slow gentleness, lifted a lock of her hair and began swirling it, almost leisurely, through his fingers. The calm, almost placid movement wasn’t anything she’d seen from him before, and it threw her off balance. Her heart beat heavily in her chest while she waited for his next move.